Sanctuary
by Night's Darkness
Summary: Jhamel offers Shran a moment of peace. Set after 'The Aenar'


**Title: **Sanctuary

**Fandom:** Star Trek: Enterprise

**Rating: **PG

**Prompt: **113. "Enchanting surrender" from 500 prompts (Shran/Jhamel) for hearts blood

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor am I gaining any money for this work. I'm just trying to enjoy myself.

**Summary: **Jhamel offers Shran a moment of after 'The Aenar'

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**Sanctuary**

This was such a bad idea.

Shran told himself this about seventy times and yet he did not listen as he followed Jhamel through her city to her knoll. Aenar were weird. Knolls were not clumped together in Clan Conglomerates, they were separate and individual. Shran supposed that since they were pacifists they had no need for the protection of an army of secondaries.

"You are thinking too hard." said Jhamel gently as they reached her door. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Shran sighed. In truth his mind had been very, very busy for the past two months since Captain Archer had returned him and Jhamel to their homeworld. He was under investigation from the Guard for possible negligence of his duty, the shen he had started to explore the possibility of bonding with had died, his Clan Zhen was being her usual overbearing self with him, his blood brothers were in one of the worst clingy-modes he had ever seen and he had Telev fussing over him from light-years away.

Telev never fussed. It was one of the things Shran loved about him. If Telev was fussing, clearly people thought he was on the verge of a breakdown. But he was not. He just needed… time.

"You have many people's woes on your mind."

Shran's antennae stiffened a little, "Jhamel, I told you to stay out of my head. I know you mean no harm, but my mind is mine."

Jhamel pouted, her antennae drooping. "I'm sorry, forgive me? You're just… projecting so much."

Shran sighed, "I'll try to contain myself."

Jhamel seemed even more unhappy with this. "That is not what I meant."

Shran did not answer. He had not come here to argue with her. They had both been at a meeting with the Imperial Council, the Imperial Guild, the Imperial Senate and the Royal Mates, to discuss the possibility of the Aenar being accepted into the governing bodies. Shran had been called to voice his opinion and had spent most of his portion being chewed out by his Clan Zhen who sat on the Senate. When it was over, Jhamel had offered him refuge from everything for a few days in her home. Shran had accepted with relief.

Now… he was not sure.

Jhamel let him into her knoll. It was small, with only about two handfuls of rooms. Jhamel had mentioned she only had ten siblings. The miniscule number made Shran's antennae flush with embarrassment.

"I'm afraid my family is not here, they all have work, but I can serve you some food… or something else if you'd like?" Jhamel's hand brushed his and Shran shivered. There was no mistaking her meaning.

"A drink. If you have any ale…"

"I'm afraid we don't. But we have something else that may do the job."

Jhamel moved away and Shran edged his way deeper into the knoll. He felt very… inappropriate.

Shran lifted his eyes to study Jhamel. She was very lovely, delicate, with her pale skin, milky eyes… long body of a shen… her pale skin. Shran sighed. No matter how hard he tried, he could not ignore the colour of her skin. She was as white as a Primary.

Shran knew she was not as young as her skin colour suggested. He knew that the Aenar had evolved from a group of proto-Andorians that had found it beneficial to remain in a primary state permanently. He knew that this mean that technically Jhamel was a secondary, even if she did not look it. But it didn't stop his instinctive reaction of distaste at the idea of playing with her. At his age if he played with a primary, it would be considered… perverted. Young secondaries were allowed to play with primaries, but the age gap between an old primary and Shran was about sixty-four years. He was much too old to be playing with primaries.

Jhamel came back to him and placed a clear drink in his hand. "Try it. It's fermented from moss."

Shran flicked an antenna forward dubiously, but sampled it. It was sharp, and fiery. It wasn't the ale he preferred, but it would do. Jhamel touched his arm and gestured to the… was it a nest or a chair? There didn't seem to be much difference between the two in the Aenar culture. Shran let her guide him into a reclining position, and tried to relax when she lay next to him, shifting closer so they were touching, side to side. Shran closed his eyes and sipped at his drink. Jhamel's hand lifted up and rested on his chest.

"Shran… what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm just…"

"Do you not wish to be here?"

"I wouldn't have come if I did not."

"Then why are you uncomfortable?"

Shran sighed and cupped her cheek with his free hand. "I'm far too old for you."

"I am not so young." Jhamel dipped her head, her lips brushing his palm. Shran shivered a little as a spark flew through him. He murmured,

"I heard a rumour that Aenar do not play. You only experience puberty once."

Jhamel sighed, "There is some truth in that."

"So… you are ready to conceive now?"

"I could… but I would need a zhen and a chan as well, remember?"

Shran shook his head, "I don't think it would be right."

"What are you afraid of?" asked Jhamel, for the first time sounding irritated.

"I'm not afraid of anything." said Shran, pulling his hand away. "But I don't want to make things difficult between us. Let's be realistic, I don't need to be an outcast of the Aenar as well as my own people, I'd never live that down. And what use would I be then."

"So you only care about your standing?" Jhamel's voice trembled a little and Shran rolled away, getting out of the chair and walking across the room. They were silent for a while, then Shran turned around and said quietly,

"I have to care about my standing."

Jhamel turned her head towards him, antennae reaching out. Shran came back to her and sat down again.

"If I am unable to convince anyone on my government of anything because they see me as an outcast, then how will I do my part to bring peace for this planet?" He took her hand and held it in his, slipping his thumb into her palm. "Do you know the stories of the Orions?"

"My zhenun told me a few. They came to our world and attempt to enslave us."

"They came and massacred our primaries, almost annihilating a whole generation. They slaughtered the Great Black Bears of the Royal Family, and then they took our Heiress, did what they do and murdered her. They devastated whole cities, taking down some of the most powerful Clans across the planet, they poisoned our air, wounded our ecosystem –we thought we would never recover."

Jhamel shuddered and for a moment Shran felt saddened by her loss of innocence. But he held her hand tight and said,

"We finally fought them off, sent them back to where they came from, cannibalised their vessels and developed our own technology, entering into the greater galaxy. And that, Jhamel, is all anyone on the government sees when they see an alien, whatever the species."

"But it was so long ago…"

"Clans have long memories. The stories were passed down, with poems and songs and paintings constantly reminding us of all that was lost and all that could be lost. It is a constantly open wound, bleeding no matter how long we exist. And no one else seems to see that the wound is now infected. We can't let it heal now, not unless we treat it. And the only way is to start to make peace. And right now I am the only one who seems willing to speak up for it."

Jhamel seemed to take this all in, her sightless eyes pointing somewhere over his shoulder. Finally she lifted her free hand and touched his cheek.

"Then it is a good think I will not reject you and make you an outcast. Nor will my people judge you. You are safe here."

Safety for Shran usually meant sleeping in his nest, and even that had never felt truly right, not since he had come home after being lost for seven years. He flinched even now at the memory of that time. Jhamel made a soft noise, almost like a chan's purr, and stroked his cheek. Her other hand slipped from his and crawled under his shirt, rubbing his stomach in a mixture of soothing and arousing circles. Shran's eyelids drooped and he leaned his head forward, eventually bumping into her brow. He sighed as he started to relax, his hand moving up to rest on her ribcage.

"I'm still too old for you." he murmured.

"Does that matter when you think so far ahead?" she wondered, brushing her nose against his. "Just imagine I'm forty years older, and you've brought peace to this planet."

Shran snorted, but he relaxed further, finally lying on his side and bringing her with him in his arms.

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I haven't seen any episodes of Enterprise for about a year and a half, let alone the only one with Jhamel, so I'm not sure if I got her character right. But with the prompt I liked the idea of Jhamel not being so innocent she wasn't capable of seducing Shran. I can't see him being with anyone who didn't have some level of assertiveness in them.

Hope you liked it!

Night's Darkness


End file.
